RESOURCE: "A Guide to Irish Churches and Graveyards," by Brian Mitchell, Genealogical Publishing Co., Baltimore, MD, revised 1995: This book, which is likely found at your local genealogy library, identifies every church and burial ground in Ireland, whatever the denomination, identifies its relationship to a townland or street address. As all churches and graveyards are listed, churches which are now defunct and graveyards which have since been separated from their churches can be located! (As I recall, this book identifies churches by their denomination and location rather that the exact name of the church). See also Brian Mitchell's "A New Genealogical Atlas of Ireland." Also, "A Guide to Irish Parish Registers," revised 1995. Mitchell is the author of many other resource books.

The charm of old Ireland -- Richard LOVETT was an enthusiastic English traveller who toured Ireland by steamer, train, carriage and on foot. He marveled at the beautiful scenery of Ireland but was sometimes annoyed by the native guides and "beggars." He mentions the cottage of Kate KEARNEY and her descendants, which apparently is still an attraction now in the Irish Touring Guides. His impressions of Ireland were published in 1888 by The Religious Tract Society. "Killarney, in the writer's judgment, is quite capable of holding its rank among the districts of exceptional natural beauty. Arrived at Killarney, the first task is to see it. At present the arrangements for doing this are not so convenient as they might be. Those who come by the Kenmare Road get a succession of lovely distant views, and those whose purses admit of a sojourn at the Lake or the Royal Victoria Hotels have no reason to complain; but for all others, to get anything like a view of the lakes is a task involving the expenditure of time, exertion, and money. The domain of the Earl of Kenmare lies between Lough Leane and the town, and around this a lofty wall has been constructed, with the result that it prevents any view whatsoever, unless the visitor proceeds to some such recognised point of vantage as Ross Castle. It is the same on the road to Muckross Abbey. In fact, it is possible, or rather, as there is no choice in the matter, it is compulsory, on all who wish to travel the six miles of road between Muckross Abbey and Lake View House, to journey by a road which on one side of the way presents the unvarying monotony of a blank stone wall. The patient endurance of those who thus journey is not strengthened by the recollection that on the other side of the wall are some of the best views in what is considered to be the loveliest region in Ireland. Whether, if these walls were lowered, matters would be better, the experts must decide. Killarney is a district rather than a town. There is indeed a cluster of streets, lined for the most part by very unattractive houses and shops, and not at all remarkable for neatness. These constitute a town, but no visitor is likely to wish to linger there. But the country about, for 15 miles or so, especially to the south and west, abounds in peaks that may be ascended, mountain loughs, about which linger grim legends, waterfalls and cascades, passes and glens, trips by car or by boat - in fact scenery, the chief beauties of which can be exhausted in two days, or which can afford the careful explorer pleasant tasks for weeks. The most comprehensive excursion is to the Gap of Dunloe, and back by way of the lakes. For this a whole day is needed, and the earlier the start the better. A good pedestrian can walk it, but the pleasantest way is to take a car to the foot of the Gap; by this means the five miles of wall are passed quickly, and the wayfarer is fresh for the walk through the Gap, and any excursion that may seem desirable, say the ascent of Purple Mountain, or a stroll up the Black Valley. By this route the Killorglin road is taken, and on the right hand, two or three miles out of the town, the ruins of Aghadoe Church and Round Tower are passed. About two miles or so away from the mouth of the Gap, the first experience of the great Killarney nuisance is encountered. Not far from Aghadoe the road forks, and here, on the alert to catch their victims early, are stationed a collection of the Killarney beggars, misnamed guides. They are mounted on ponies, and their object is to succeed in getting these taken for the ride up the pass. There is no escape from them. The best plan is to say little or nothing, to buy nothing, and, above all, to drink none of the various mixtures that are offered every few hundred years along the route. It is really intolerable that these hordes of beggars should be allowed thus to detract from the enjoyment of a very lovely district. One is inclined to hold that if the advocates of Home Rule could make it evident that their panacea would banish the beggars, not only from the Gap, but from all the other lovely parts of the kingdom, they would at once secure the sympathy of all travellers. These would consent to a good deal in order to secure the disappearance of the men and boys who offer ponies for hire, who bring cornets to wake the echoes, and who wish to fire off cannons that look admirably adapted to destroy the individual bold enough to fire them; together with the girls who offer for sale woollen socks and potheen and milk, the whole tribe of Kate KEARNEY's descendants who sell deplorable photographs of themselves and the huts in which they live, and the miscellaneous crew who look upon every visitor as the possibility of a copper or a sixpence."

Born in Derry April 13,1939, Seamus Heaney was the eldest of nine children to Margaret and Patrick Heaney, at the family farm in Mossbawn, Co. Derry. He said, "In the 1940s, when I was the eldest child of an ever-growing family in rural County Derry, we crowded together in the three rooms of a traditional thatched farmstead and lived a kind of den-life which was more or less emotionally and intellectually proofed against the outside world. It was an intimate, physical, creaturely existence in which the night sounds of the horse in the stable beyond one bedroom wall mingled with the sounds of adult conversation from the kitchen beyond the other." Heaney married Marie Devlin in 1965. In 1995, he received a Nobel Prize for Literature. He is a well-renowed teacher and lecturer and advocate for peace in Northern Ireland. "WHATEVER YOU SAY, SAY NOTHING "Religion's never mentioned here," of course. "You know them by their eyes," and hold your tongue. "One side's as bad as the other," never worse. Christ, it's near time that some small leak was sprung In the great dykes the Dutchman made To dam the dangerous tide that followed Seamus. Yet for all this art and sedentary trade I am incapable. The famous Northern reticence, the tight gag of place And times: yes, yes. Of the "wee six" I sing Where to be saved you only must save face And whatever you say, say nothing.

The people of Fermanagh have always been craftsman, and an ancient journal records that they were excellent sword makers. Belleek Pottery was founded in 1857 by John Caldwell BLOOMFIELD, the local landlord, David McBIRNIE, a Dublin merchant and financier, and Robert Williams ARMSTRONG, an architect turned inventor and ceramics expert. Immediately recognizable by its creamy translucent glaze, distinctive decoration and delicate basketware, Belleek china also carries a transfer of images symbolic of Irish culture and tradition - the round tower, harp and Irish wolfhound. This trademark is very important in dating pieces, and collectors need to be aware of fraud. More than half the major Belleek collectors are men; the well-known American author, Mark TWAIN was a Belleek collector. What makes Belleek so collectible is the fact that it was produced in such small quantities, the larger English, German and French companies of the same period were producing vast quantities for the Victorian market. In the world of antiques, quality and rarity are equally important. Belleek Pottery did not keep very many records of the early pieces made and occasionally new, unrecorded pieces turn up. (My particular favorite is a charming little sailor boy who sits, sleepily resting his head in his hand and forming the lid of a little box only six inches in height). Many people who collect Belleek have Irish roots and there is a Belleek Collectors International Society. It is believed that the little Irish china vase with shamrocks on it, as described in the list of items recovered from the "Titanic," was a Belleek vase belonging to one of the ill-fated passengers. The winning of a gold medal at the Paris Exhibition of 1900 added to the prestige of the Fermanagh Pottery. The dainty "Twig" basket shows the skill and dexterity of the craftworkers of Belleek. "Prisoner of Love" is a beautiful piece portraying a young girl whose wrists are bound with garlands of flowers while doves or lovebirds coo. Each petal and leaf which decorate candlesticks have been individually created and added with great care, truly a delicate art. A recent Sotheby's Irish Auction featured a First Period Double Photograph Frame, a First Period Crouching Venus Figure painted bronze, and a First Period Thorn pattern mug. Belleek tea sets are also highly prized. (Political mischief - a chamber pot featured a transfer inside of the Victorian Prime Minister William GLADSTONE). A bust of the writer Charles DICKENS (1812-70) was created; Dickens visited Ireland three times in 1858, 1867 and 1869 when he held readings in Cork, Limerick and Belfast. Sited on the banks of the River Erne near the Donegal-Fermanagh county boundary, an imposing building is home to Belleek Pottery. -- Excerpt, "Ireland of the Welcomes"

Can anyone help Mr. Davies with PRONI lookup information? Thanks all Don ----- Original Message ----- From: "Howard Davies" <howda@lineone.net> To: <donkelly@grovenet.net> Sent: Saturday, October 12, 2002 4:21 AM Subject: Harland & Wolff's Belfast > Dear Don, > > I have looked at your IRL-ULSTER Mailing List archive and > wondered if there is anyone doing lookups at PRONI with an > interest in the Harland & Wolff's Archive who could help? > > Our family has no other connection with Ireland apart from > the fact that my father married a Sarah Kelly from Newry who > sadly died young - he later married my mother the widow of > James Leslie Price, below. Would a one-off insert be > possible please on your list? > > My (half)sister's father James Leslie PRICE a Marine > Engineer died tragically when she, her brother and sister > were aged two months to three years old. As the only > remaining survivor she is anxious to know about her father's > early years when he was said to have been at Harland & > Wolff's in Belfast as an apprentice or trainee engineer. > Would anyone researching the firm who could help with a > lookup please contact me direct? Permission has been > granted to search the relevant archives. > > Many thanks, > > Howard Davies > Weymouth > --- Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free. Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com). Version: 6.0.394 / Virus Database: 224 - Release Date: 10/3/02

For five years, beginning in 1845, a plant disease ravaged Ireland and destroyed the country's basic food crop, the potato, and there was subsequent widespread disease, malnutrition and starvation. By 1850, over a million Irish men, women and children were dead, and those who could afford to leave headed primarily for America. During and immediately following the famine over one and a half million Irish citizens came to the United States. One of them was a young man named William MURPHY, who immigrated with his younger brother James and searched for work. Even when he found a steady job constructing railroad bridges, he was moved from Virginia to California and many states in between. In December 1880, Murphy wrote the following letter to his sister and her husband in Belfast to share his thoughts on the American experience: "Dear Sister and Brother, I have to knock around so much at the work I follow that I am hardly ever more than a week or two in one place. And I make up my mind to write home every place I go. But when I get there, I think this way: "Well, I'm not going to be long here; perhaps the next place I go I can wait and get an answer." And so it goes. No doubt you think, why don't I settle down like other people? I have asked myself that question a thousand times. I have gone further - I have tried to do so. But when I try, I soon get tired and the restless spirit gets the best of me all the time. The fact is, traveling is so natural to me that I might as well try to live without eating as without wandering around. But what difference does it make? Life is but a dream, and although I know that my last days will be spent in all probability amongst strangers, I almost wish sometimes the dream was over. Don't think for a moment that I am despondent or downhearted. But just think for a second of the past that has gone, never to be recalled. It seems but yesterday since we were a happy and united family - mother, father, brothers, and sisters. Where are they now? 'They grew together side by side, They filled one hall with glee. Their graves are scattered far and wide, By mountain, steam and sea.' James, the latest of our loved and lost, laid him down to rest in the far away California. He like thousands more tried to find a fortune and instead he found a grave. But where could he find a more fitting resting place than in Lone Mountain? The last rays of the setting sun kiss his grave as it sinks behind the waters of the Great Pacific, and his spirit has crossed the Great Divide and joined the others in that better land beyond. Dear sister and brother; may God bless and preserve you is the earnest prayer of your affectionate brother." William -- Excerpt, "Letters of a Nation," ed. A. Carroll

Irene didn't provide much to go one, but perhaps those who descend from O'Rourke can at least give her some encouragement. Her address below. I am totally clueless on surname O'Rourke Thanks Don Original Message ----- From: Wayne Diamond To: donkelly@grovenet.net Sent: Saturday, October 12, 2002 5:20 AM Hi Don I live in Sydney and my Australian neighbour has just told me his daughters middle name is Breffney and his surname is O'Rourke. He is not sure of the ancestry. He thinks its an area of Ireland like Sydney would be a part of Australia! Can you help? My maiden name is Sweeney and I am from Galway. Thank you Irene Diamond --- Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free. Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com). Version: 6.0.394 / Virus Database: 224 - Release Date: 10/3/02

BIO: Pioneering woman journalist Elizabeth Jane COCHRANE ("Nellie Bly") was born in Cochrane's Mill, PA in the 1860s to the town's namesake and most prominent citizen, Michael COCHRANE, a wealthy landowner, judge and businessman. Mr. Cochrane had had ten children by his first wife, was widowed, and then fathered five by more by his second wife the third of which was Elizabeth. Apparently he put his second family in jeopardy by not having a will at the time of his death. Elizabeth began her journalism career at the age of 18 at the "Pittsburgh Dispatch." Taking her pen name "Nellie Bly" from a Stephen FOSTER song about a social reformer, she quickly gained a reputation for writing about needed social reforms. Her feature articles were on such subjects as divorce, slum life and the injustice of poverty. "Bly" later moved to New York and took a job with Joseph PULITZER's "New York World," winning national fame for investigative writing when she feigned insanity to get into an asylum on NYC's Blackwell's Island, and her subsequent expose' again brought about reform. Elizabeth's determined reporting brought to the public's eye corruption, revealing shady lobbyists and the way in which women prisoners were being treated by police. "Nellie Bly" made international headlines when in 1890 she made a round-the-world trip in 72 days, 6 hours, 11 minutes, beating the "record" of Jules Verne's fictional Phileas Fogg in "Around the World in Eighty Days." At the age of 30 "Bly" married Robert SEAMAN, a 70-year-old industrialist, attempted to run his business after died, later returning to journalism where she helped to find homes for abandoned children.

ELEGY FOR A STILL-BORN CHILD Your mother walks light as an empty creel Unlearning the intimate nudge and pull Your trussed-up weight of seed-flesh and bone-curd Had insisted on. That evicted world Contracts round its history, its scar. Doomsday struck when your collapsed sphere Extinguished itself in our atmosphere, Your mother heavy with the lightness in her. For six months you stayed cartographer Charting my friend from husband towards father. He guessed a globe behind your steady mound. Then the pole fell, shooting star, into the ground. On lonely journeys I think of it all, Birth of death, exhumation for burial; A wreath of small clothes, a memorial pram And parents reaching for a phantom limb. I drive by remote control on this bare road Under a drizzling sky, a circling rock. Past mountain fields full to the brim with cloud. White waves riding home on a wintry lough. -- Seamus Heaney, born Mossbawn, Co. Derry, 1939

IRISH DIASPORA: 1. Dr. John McLaughlin, creator and host of "The McLaughlin Group," with its high-intensity, fast-paced discussions of world politics, is a 4th generation Irish-American. His family emigrated in 1825; their counties of origin were Tyrone and Armagh. His family names are McLaughlin and Connolly. 2. Father Joseph A. O'Hare, Pres. Fordham University, is a Bronx native and has been in the Jesuit order for more than 50 years. He was the former editor-in-chief of "America" magazine. He said, "I welcome the Irish sense of both the tragedy and comedy of life - and the Irish gift of language to deal with both." Fr. O'Hare is a 2nd generation Irish-American. His family emigrated circa 1885-95, counties of origin, Limerick and Tipperary. Family Names, O'Hare and Enright. 3. Daniel Keough, Chairman Emeritus, Coca-Cola Enterprises, has a soft spot for Ireland, having established a center of Irish studies at Notre Dame, his alma mater. He is a 3rd generation Irish American. His family emigrated in the 1850s, their county of origin Wexford. His family names are Keough, Foley, and O'Hare. 4. John Sweeney, Pres. AFL-CIO, author "American Needs a Raise" (1996), is a first generation Irish-American. His family emigrated in 1929 from Co. Leitrim. His family names are Sweeney and McMorrow. During ihs youth in the Tremont section of The Bronx, there were three things that mattered in the Sweeney household: family, church and organized labor. "We knew that without family there would be no love, without the Church there would be no hope for redemption, and without the Union there would be no food on the table." Sweeney's father was a NYC bus driver and a proud member of the Transport Workers. 5. Maureen O'Boyle, Journalist & TV anchor, with a home in L.A. in 1998, is a 3rd generation Irish-American. Her family emigrated in 1840, their counties of origin were Offaly (King's) and Mayo. Her family names are O'Boyle, Keegan, Kennedy, Collins, and McGuiniss. "My great-great-grandfather came to America from a small town in Offaly as a young boy in search of a future. At 8, he was working a mule train on the Erie Canal! By the time he passed away, he was captain of his own ship and several barges that worked the NY waterways." Maureen co-hosted the 1997 NYC St. Patrick's Day parade. She said, "As I watched that great pageant up Fifth Avenue, I am reminded of all we have accomplished and how, despite great hardship, there is a spirit within the Irish that survives and flourishes." 6. Roma Downey, actress, "Touched By An Angel," is a native of Co. Derry and has a lovely soft Derry voice. She grew up in war-torn Derry and lived through the worst of the Troubles and has painful memories of the past violence. A survivor who derives great happiness from helping others, she is "America's favorite Irish angel." Her family names are Downey and Reilly. She has lately been active with "Operation Smile," working to raise funds for surgeries for children around the world with terrible facial deformities that have made them "outcasts" in their own societies.

Per "Irish Counties," by J. J. Lee: The town of Portarlington, which lies on a bend in the River Barrow not far from the border with neighboring Co. Offaly, is now a quiet backwater of Co. Laois. (Note, Co. Laois is also known as Queen's Co. and Leix), and Co. Offaly is also known as King's Co). In the last paragraph below, is mentioned the survival of Portarlington's church French records. After the revocation in 1685 of the Edict of Nantes, which had ensured religious tolerance, French Protestant refugees flocked to what was then the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland in search of places in which they could live in peace. One of the many places they settled was Portarlington, and nowhere did their culture, religon and language survive more tenaciously. Portarlington was surrounded by bogs and forst and therefore sufficiently isolated from the rest of the countryside to maintain a separate identity. Second, the settlement was large enough to be self-sufficient and third, the place had a distinctive character in that an astonishingly high proportion of its families were of noble origin. The establishment of the French communities took place at a time when, in another Irish paradox, Roman Catholic Irish soldiers were fleeing to France after the Jacobite defeat at the hands of King William III, and it was one of William's senior lieutenant's, the Hug! uenot Henri Massue, Marquis de Ruvigny, later styled Earl of Galway, who got the Portarlington project under way. Portartlington had been laid out for English settlers with a market square and four streets leading from it. But the little town had suffered severe damage during the war, and de Ruvigny personally financed the construction of over 100 houses of unique design. The entrances and gardens were to the rear and blank walls faced the streets. The first wave of French immigrants arrived in 1692, many of whom were pensioned-off soldiers and their families. Most came from the officer class, which, at that time, was made up of sons of noble families. There were six ensigns, one cornet, 16 lieutenants, 12 captains and one lieutenant-colonel. The most elegent and magnificient of all, with his scarlet cloak and silver-buckled breeches was Robert d'Ully, Vicomte de Laval, a man of the roy blood line of King Henri de Navarre. However, the nobles of that era could hardly have been expected to fend for themselves, and a second group of "laboureurs," 13 families in all, arrived from the Swiss cantons where they had taken refuge, and gave the colony a more balanced character. So by the start of the 18th century the foundations of a lasting settlement were laid. There were stories from visitors from neighbouring areas of noblemen sipping a strange drink called :tea" from china cups under trees in the village square; of the wine of Bordeaux being favored over the whiskey of the surrounding countryside. Henri Massue became undisputed leader of the Huguenot community in Britain and Ireland and was directly involved in the settlement of Portarlington in 1692. A number of forces combined to change the situation, to lengthy to go into here. Please read about high-church bishop William Moreton, from England, and the minister of the Eglise Francaise de St. Paul, Reverend Benjamin de Daillon, and army chaplain Antoine Ligenier de Bonneval in your library reference books. Suffice it to say, there was a major split in the religous community which lasted 26 years, and the turning point came when 37 families left for Dublin to worhip at the French Calvinist churches in the capital, where their distinct language and customs were overwhelmed in a city which was quickly growing to become of the populous in Europe. Meanwhile, Portarlington was becoming increasingly Anglican, and therefore, more an Anglo-Irish town. Today, there are still Irish and Catholic familie in the county who bear names such as Blanc and Champ, and families in other parts of the province of Leinster, both Catholic and Protestant, whose Huguenot forebears gave them names such as Dubois, Perrin, Du Moulin and De Mange. All that remains of the Portarlington French connection now are its meticulous records, a few of the old noble houses and an annual French Festival at which the wine of Bordeaux is imbibed in great quantities and snails and frog legs are eaten in abundance. Huguenots made a remarkable contribution to Irish history. The less noble branches of the immigration, notably the weavers who established the Irish poplin industry, now vanished like the immigrants themselves, contributed greatly to the economy of a country which had been ravaged by more than half a century of warfare prior to their arrival. Their memory survives in a county of moorland and bog, pasture and parkland, in the heart of Ireland's Central Plain; a county of leevl land, except in the northwest where the Slieve Bloom mountains once housed rebel Gaelic chieftains. Portarlington is now a backwater marked by cooling towers of a peat-powered electrity plant. The county town, Portlaois (formerly Maryborough) houses a giant prison, but the best place in wihch to lock yourself away with the memories of the French and their descendants is the town of Abbeyleix, planned in the 17th century by the local landlord, Viscount de Vesci, a nobleman of Norman descent. Here you will find Morrissey's pub, one of the most convivial and best-preserved bars in Ireland, a place to raise a glass of Bordeaux to the French who have passed on. The records of Portarlington's Eglie Francaise de St. Paul were kept in French from their first entry in 1694, until finally being superseded by English in 1816. Fortunately, thse records were retained locally rather than sent to the Public Record Office in the Four Courts in Dublin, many of whose priceless papers were destroyed in a fire during the civil war in the 1920s. As a result, more is known about the French who peopled Portarlington than is known of the Irish and Anglo-Irish who inhabited the rest of the county.

Our website www.irishmidlandsancestry.com has a section dealing with historically famous names in the areas, links, etc. John Kearney. Irish Midlands Ancestry (Offaly Historical & Archaeological Society) Bury Quay, Tullamore, Co. Offaly, Ireland Web Addresses: www.irishmidlandsancestry.com www.offalyhistory.com E-Mail: ohas@iol.ie

LULLABY Husheen the herons are crying, Away in the rain and the sleet, Flying and flying and flying With never a rest to their feet. But warm in your coverlet nestle, Wee bird, till the dawn of the day, Nor dream of the wild wings that wrestle In the night and the rain and the gray. Come, sweetheart, the bright ones would bring you By the magical meadows and streams, With the light of your dreaming they build you A house on the hill of your dreams. But you stir in your sleep and you murmur, As though the wild rain and the gray Wet hills with the winds ever blowing Had driven your dreams away. And dearer the wind in its crying, And the secrets the wet hills hold, Than the goldenest place they could find you In the heart of a country of gold. -- Seumas O'Sullivan (born 1879)

RAIN (Donegal) All day long The gray rain beating, On the bare hills Where the scant grass cannot cover, The gray rocks peeping Through the salt herbage All day long The young lambs bleating Stand for covering Where the scant grass is Under the gray wall, Or seeking softer shelter Under tattered fleeces Nuzzle the warm udders. All day long The little waves leaping Round the gray rocks By the brown tide borders, Round the black headlands Streaming with rain. -- Seumas O'Sullivan (born 1879)

BIO: Seamus O'SULLIVAN (1879-1958) wrote: "Music so forest wild and piercing sweet, would bring Silence on blackbirds singing Their best in the ear of Spring." The poet could have been referring to Irish traditional fiddler-player and composer Tommy PEOPLES. Tommy, now in his 40s, was born in Killycally, near St. Johnstown, Co. Donegal, a small town on the border with northern Ireland, and was given his first fiddle lessons from his cousin, Joe CASSIDY. In an area that boasted of a fiddler in every other household, and coming, as he did, from a musical family, it was not surprising that the young Tommy soon developed as a player, quickly absorbing the style, tunes and influences of the locality. Since the last century, cultural links with Scotland had served to shape local fiddle styles into a unique blend of Scots-Donegal-Irish styles. Labourers forced to emigrate to Scotland, to find seasonal employment as potato-pickers, usually returned to Donegal with new songs, stories, tunes and dance. This vibrant blending of Irish and Scottish styles can be heard in the playing of the great travelling fiddle player from Glenties, Johnny DOHERTY, and Neil O'BOYLE and the late Frank CASSIDY. On leaving "The Bothy Band," in which his fiddle-playing was described in the 1970s as electifying, Tommy PEOPLES returned to settle in Co. Clare and played under the NY-based Shanachie label. His music has been described as uplifting and joyful, stark, bleak and disturbing, with raw power and poignant emotion - PEOPLES a master fiddler, bending, twisting, shaking each note for its expressive worth, playing with tenderness and frailty, with reckless, impassioned abandon, beauty and haunting sensuality. Should you have the good fortune to witness Tommy play his fiddle in a smoky north Clare pub session, you will see how casually Ireland takes her many master musicians - yet how important they are to Irish lives, their spirit and their culture, for they speak a language which embodies and reflects Ireland's soul. -- Excerpt, "Ireland of the Welcomes"

CHURCH GOING Once I am sure there's nothing going on I step inside, letting the door thud shut. Another church: matting, seats, and stone, And little books; sprawlings of flowers, cut for Sunday, brownish now, some brass and stuff Up at the holy end; the small neat organ; And a tense, musty, unignorable silence, Brewed God knows how long. Hatless, I take off My cycle-clips in awkward reverence, Move forward, run my hand around the font. >From where I stand, the roof looks almost new - Cleaned, or restored? Someone would know: I don't. Mounting the lectern, I peruse a few Hectoring large-scale verses, and pronounce "Here endeth" much more loudly than I'd meant. The echoes snigger briefly. Back at the door I sign the book, donate an Irish sixpence, Reflect the place was not worth stopping for. Yet stop I did: in fact I often do, And always end much at a loss like this, Wondering what to look for; wondering, too, When churches fall completely out of use What we shall turn them into, if we shall keep A few cathedrals chronically on show, Their parchment, plate and pyx in locked cases, And let the rest rent-free to rain and sheep. Shall we avoid them as unlucky places? Or, after dark, will dubious women come To make their children touch a particular stone; Pick simples for a cancer; or on some Advised night see walking a dead one? Power of some sort or other will go on. In games, in riddles, seemingly at random; but superstition, like belief, must die, And what remains when disbelief has gone? Grass weedy pavement, brambles, buttress, sky. A shape less recognizable each week, A purpose more obscure. I wonder who Will be the last, the very last, to seek This place for what it was; one of the crew That tap and jot and know what rood-lofts were? Some ruin-bibber, randy for antique, Or Christmas-addict, counting on a whiff Of gowns-and-bands and organ-pipes and myrrh? Or will he be my representative, Bored, uninformed, knowing the ghostly silt Dispersed, yet tending to this cross of ground Through suburb scrub because it held unspilt So long and equably what since is found Only in separation - marriage, and birth. And death, and thoughts of these - for which was built This special shell? For though I've no idea What this accoutred frowsty barn is worth, It pleases me to stand in silence here; A serious house on serious earth it is, In whose blent air all our compulsions meet, Are recognized, and robed as destinies. And that much never can be obsolete, Since someone will forever be surprising A hunger in himself to be more serious, And gravitating with it to this ground, Which, he once heard, was proper to grow wise in, If only that so many dead lie round. -- Philip Larkin (b. 1922) Born in Coventry, England, Larkin lived and worked for a time in Belfast

Philip Larkin, born in Coventry, England in 1922 worked at numerous libraries including the University at Hull and Queen's University at Belfast. Larkin died in 1985. "DAYS" What are days for? Days are where we live. They come, they wake us Time and time over. They are to be happy in Where can we live but days? Ah, solving that question Brings the priest and the doctor In their long coats Running over the fields. -- Philip Larkin (1922-1985)

Poet Philip LARKIN (1922-1985) was born in Coventry, England. He worked at various libraries including the university at Hull and was at one time the assistant librarian at Queen's University in Belfast. DUBLINESQUE Down stucco sidestreets Where light is pewter And afternoon mist Brings light on in shops Above race-guides and rosaries, A funeral passes. The hearse is ahead But after there follows A troop of streetwalkers In wide flowered hats, Leg-of-mutton sleeves And ankle-length dresses. There is an air of great friendliness, As if they were honouring One they were fond of; Some caper a few steps, Skirts held skilfully (Someone claps times), And of great sadness also, As they wend away A voice is heard singing Of Kitty, or Katy, As if the name meant once All Love, all beauty.

See Lorraine's query at end of note-- I don't have the answer to your specific question, but maybe some information for you in Richard LOVETT's notes below. As you probably already know Nymphsfield in Co. Mayo is a townland of 192 acres in the Barony of Kilmaine, Civil Parish of Cong, Poor Law Union of Ballinrobe. I know there is a book in genealogy libraries which lists all types of churches in each Irish county and their location and whether or not they have a graveyard; also gives locations of graveyards not associated with an particular church, but in most instances it does not give the actual names of the churches. Your library, a Google search, or a call to your local LDS (Mormon) Family History Center might give you the name of the church you are seeking. There is data in the 1783 Census/Substitute re Ballinrobe in the journal "Analecta Hibernica" Vol. 14 at the National Library of Ireland (Dublin). It appears that major landlords in the 1700s in the Civil Parish of Cong included Col. John BROWNE (who also owned land in Co. Galway), and Sir Neal O'DONEL. Col. BROWNE apparently sold some or all of his estates and there is surviving names of major tenants and purchasers 1698-1704, and those occupying the estates in 1778 covering townlands in the civil parishes of Ballynakill, Cong, Kilcummin, Killanni, Omey and Ross. National Library of Ireland (Dublin) positive/microfilm #940, likely also on microfilm at local LDS (Mormon) Family History Centers. J. PIGOT, Pigot & Co. and SLATER's Directories (trade) for Co. Mayo for the 1800s are available at the NLI (likely also on microfilm at your local LDS (Mormon) Family History Center. Per my 1980s travel guide, Cong, in south Mayo, is found between Lough Corrib and Lough Mask. It is the site of a 12th century abbey. Rory O'CONNOR, last High King of Ireland, is buried there. The Cross of Cong is in the National Museum in Dublin. There are over 40 underground caves in and around Cong, once places of refuge for highwaymen and patriots, some can be explored. One mile west of Dunmore is a 13th century De Bermingham Castle, in a good state of repair; nearby, is the Augustinian abbey founded by Walter de BERMINGHAM in 1425. There are Church of Ireland records (births, marriages, deaths) for the mid 1740s (births even a decade earlier) for the CP of Cong in Co. Mayo. There are similar records at the Representative Church Body Library (Rathgar, Dublin) but the latter has marriages records that continue on until 1956. Griffith's Valuation for Co. Mayo took place in 1856-57. A Rev. Timothy HURLEY has written "St. Patrick and the Parish of Kilkeeran" in Vol. 1 of his works. Not sure where this particular church is located or what denomination, not familiar with the area. Victorian English traveler, Richard LOVETT's notes were published in 1888 -- "In the wilds of Connemara are the Loughs Corribe and Mask together with the village of Cong. During the summer a steamer sails daily from Galway to Cong, traversing Lough Corrib, which is not only one of the largest but also one of the loveliest in Ireland. It covers an area of no less than 44,000 acres. It is studded with isletes, the most important being Inchagoill, or "the island of the devout foreigner," which contains an ancient graveyard and the ruins of two very old Irish churches. The more ancient of the two is known as Teampull Phaidrig, or St. Patrick's Church, and has claims by no means despicable to be considered as belonging to the age of the great Irish missionary. There is, moreover, upon Inchagoill a stone monument bearing the inscription, "the stone of Lugnaedon, son of Limeneuh," who is generally held to have been the sister of St. Patrick. The second church, Teampull-na-Neave, "the church of the Saint," is several centuries younger than St. Patrick's, and presents to the student of church architecture a very fine example of the decorated, circular-arched cluster-pillared doorway. On the isthmus connecting Loughs Corrib and Mask stands the village of Cong, the name being derived from the Irish word "Cunga," which means "a neck." About the year 1010 Cong was the seat of the bishopric, and there are still extant the ruins of a very fine abbey dating from the twelfth century. It belonged to the wealthy order of St. Augustine. During the last fifty or sixty years the remains have suffered severely from the depredations of those who considered and used it as a handy quarry. It was famous in the early days for wealth and ecclesiastical treasures; of the latter the famous Cross of Cong is a good example. Roderick O'CONNOR, who is often described as "the last King of Ireland," died here in 1198. The popular view that he was also interred in Cong Abbey, is incorrect, he having been buried at Clonmacnois. But here he spent the last fifteen years of his life... ancient monarch, broken down by the calamities which his family was suffering from a foreign invasion which he was no longer able to resist, but still more so by the opposition and ingratitude of his own children and relatives..." There are microfilmed records of Catholics Emigrating from Ulster to Mayo (see John Grenham's book "Tracing Your Irish Ancestors. Interesting - A report regarding Achill Orphan Refugees (1849) can be found at the NLI, shelf number 266 a 8. Lorraine's Query: Would anyone happen to know the name of the Catholic church in this village > in Cty Mayo, Nympsfield, Cong.It's on the Corrib river about 10 miles nw of > Annaghdown, Galway. > I have sent 2x to the S. Cty Mayo asking them for this infor after they got > me infor on our family, but they don't answer. > Thanks to all > Lorraine

May I thank all those who responded on and off-list to my query. I feel a new camera coming on. regards Eddie